Middle class suburbia turns into not so much

Ok. So I live in North London. Which generally makes people think I'm posh. At the moment, it makes people worry for my life. Why? Because we're under attack. On Saturday Wood Green got attacked. I didn't hear too much about it so assumed the shops would be fine by Sunday. Went to go get a suit with The Lad on Sunday and the entire high street was cordoned off, buildings had been trashed, walls had been torn down, windows smashed. It was like walking through the set of 28 Days Later. All of the buses back home had stopped, so our usual 329 journey home that takes 20 mins, took almost 2 hours. On the diverted bus, we encountered some of the fuck-wits that had been at the riots the night before, who were still drunk and high on violence, one only sixteen years old. They jeered and yelled the whole journey, winding each other up, a girl in the group urging them to fight. Eventually, they got off the bus, the sixteen year old was knocked unconscious onto the pavement by a thuggish 30 something in full view of everyone on the vehicle, and the driver drove off as fast as he could (and for those that would claim that the riots were just black people, all of this group were white. It's not about race, it's about people being thick as pig shit and badly raised). Usually he would have stopped and called the police, but not in the tense atmosphere that we were all part of.  I grew up in Tottenham, my Grandparents still live there, and have been scared to leave their house since the riots. They couldn't even go to church on Sunday, because all the roads were closed and there were burnt out cars everywhere. That's not right.

But we thought it was over.

Then last night, the violence moved even closer to home. Twitter was buzzing with news and pictures of a car on fire in Gentleman's Row, people looting HMV and G. Mantella *a small jewellery shop*. It was rumoured that Nandos and Krispy Kreme were ablaze (now we know that they had 'just' been looted) The retail park had also been targeted. Throughout the night we heard sirens and helicopters, till it finally died down at about 11.30. This afternoon my brother went to the town to see if he could help with the clean up but was advised to come back almost straight away as police reports were saying that gangs of teenagers were heading to Palmers Green, and then to Winchmore Hill. Which is a small suburb where I live. It is now very very quiet outside. Normally you can hear cars but it's weirdly quiet for a Monday evening, apart from the odd police helicopter above. There's a sense of waiting to see what happens. My brother's weirdly hyper, it's the first time anything this dramatic has ever happened to close to him.

Not sure how tonight will go. Mixed rumours of youths in Broomfield and Grovelands' parks, some say they're leaving, some say they're heading out to do damage. Fingers crossed?

On a happier note I had an interesting time today doing a bit of Mystery Shopping. Minimum wage, but the easiest job ever! Back to the call centre tomorrow though, doh! Lovely lunch with The Lad today too, now we're all snuggled up, watching things on the internet and trying to ignore Benji the cat who's raging his own riot against my bedroom door.

Keep safe Reader!
Ash
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Holiday in de sun...

Reader, I am so ready for a holiday. It has been about three years since I've been somewhere sunny and let that yummy yummy heat soak through to my bones. Even longer since I've been away with my family (4 years, 5 maybe?) Reader, I fear that I may have had my very last childhood holiday. Now, I do realise that I am 23 and this is surely old enough to be going on holidays myself (If I had the money that is, which I defo don't), but I didn't realise that my last family holiday would be, well, my last family holiday. If I had known, I would have relished it far more! You see Reader, my family holidays were like holidays written about in Enid Blyton novels, only with more boozing and less searching old shipwrecks for gypsy gold. Traditionally we'd rent a villa on one of the Spanish islands, close to the sea but near enough away from the tourists (snobs, us?) to avoid WKD and condom littered streets and afford us a little peace and quiet. We'd stay up late into the night drinking local liqueurs and eating tapas, then walk hope in the humid evening, slightly pissed and extremely rotund. I'd always wake up earlyish to have a swim in the morning without anyone else in it, then I'd lay by the pool with one of the 20 books me and mum would smuggle into the suitcases until lunch, when we'd feast upon local produce, breads and olives and cheeses and fight over the crisps. Afternoons would be blissfully spent by the pool or wandering round old cobbled towns searching for leather goods and the perfect place to have dinner that night. They were holidays that truly rested the soul, we'd come back a good stone heavier, but so chilled we could pass for rastas.

*Sigh* I miss those holidays. If a fairy wanted to wave their spangly wand and give me another one, or at least a lottery win so that I could afford to take my parents on one, I'd be much obliged.

In other news, I have an audition next week for a really interesting thriller project, fingers crossed for me eh chaps! I also have a job interview this week for a call centre job selling wine, which is ironic given that I don't actually drink the stuff...oh well, it pays more than my last job! What else has happened? Well, I visited my lovely mentor before her show in Leicester Square the other day which was great and then sent her links to my graduate film and the music video I recently did for my very talented Russian director friend and she gave me such amazing feedback that my head has genuinely swollen to about double it's size and my cheeks are constantly blushing with pride. I may print it out and frame it actually. I won't tell you what it said, because that would be boasting (what, because that whole paragraph wasn't? Shut up Ash...). Also, today I went to see two films. The Hangover II and POTC4. Both were unexpected delights, although I now have slight tunnel vision from too much cinema time. BLB is busy revising for his A levels and The Lad is gearing up for the Pokemon Tournament he's dragging me to in Birmingham (god help me). So all good really!

More blogs on their way, sorry for the lateness of this one, I've been seriously pooped of late
Bysie bye Reader!
Ash
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